Bummed

So, I haven't talked much about the races this past weekend. I'm having kind of a frustrating time dealing with what is (apparently) a sprained thumb. Bad enough that I'm not fully functional. Not so bad that I'm totally out of commission.

And yes, everything everyone has been saying is technically true: At least I'm right handed, at least it's not broken, at least it wasn't your femur...or your head.

But, that still doesn't make it any less frustrating to have spent a horrible, horrible winter working hard on the bike while I could have been chilling out, having a good time, maintaining some decent base fitness, and doing some climbing and lifting.

Now I'm about a month away from what would be, according to my original progression "peak race shape."

Only I can't hold my handle bars and thus cannot race my bicycle.

The races themselves were good.

The road race on Saturday was tough--I again achieved the perpetual goal of getting into a breakaway. I again was caught after ~10 miles. But this time, I was so sufficiently fried that I got dropped and gave up on the race. But at least I went for the glory.

Sunday morning was the eagerly awaited Team Time Trial. We averaged probably 24.5-25 mph over a 10 mile hilly and technical course with multiple corners and two 180 degree turnarounds to win the TTT. It was a hard, 25 minute at or above Lactate Threshold effort for me.

Then there was the criterium later that day. I felt good despite starting out at the very back of the race and having a lot of trouble getting my cleat to engage on the pedal. Spent about 10 minutes moving up to the front of the race. Stayed there fairly comfortably. I cornered well. I felt solid. And I was just getting ready. Staying up front...trying to give my teammates a chance at a break if anyone wanted to go. I heard someone say "25 minutes left" on one lap...and so I just sat in, cornered, and tried to keep my place. The pace was faster than anything we'd ridden all year, but I felt okay hanging in the pack despite the exertion from the Time Trial that morning.

Next thing I know, I'm down with a broken hand and a broken bike.

It was a hard weekend of racing that took its toll on me both mentally and physically.

I sat out completely on Monday. I was in part too bummed out to even try to ride the trainer. And in part, devoid of a bicycle with which to do so.

So I spent the night at Revolution Cycles talking to Jeff about it and getting some repairs done to my rig. By the end of the night I had it road ready again but, as stated, I was cooked.

So I went to bed.

Yesterday morning, I got up and spun for an hour. And it felt hard despite never getting my heart rate above 130. Still tired from the weekend I supposed.

Tuesday night normally brings threshold work on the trainer. I gave it a try...warmed up well...and got through 8' @ 300W, rested for 5, then started the second.

No fucking way. Legs were shot and, mentally, I wasn't willing to suffer.

I'll hop on the trainer again tonight for an easy 90-120', then give the LT work another go tomorrow.

As for the hand:

I'm not a health care expert, so I am unsure how to proceed. X-Rays were good. Joint stability is good. It's swollen, stiff, and has limited range of motion and functionality...but as far as anything being broken or torn...I've been told a few times that things look okay despite the large degree of bruising and swelling, especially around the joint at the base of the thumb. I have another appt. tomorrow with my regular doc. He's going to look at it and hopefully tell me it'll clear up in a week.

He might also say I need a cast until September. At which point, I might lose it.

I mean, yeah, I can ride still. I can ride the trainer in my room like I have all winter. But the only thing that let me get through that was the prospect of the nice weather and being in shape to ride outside in the summer. I don't think I can mentally take another 3 months of indoor riding. Especially when everyone I know is taking days off of work to ride, climb, or even window shop in the nice weather.

On top of that, if I can't hold the bars and control the bike, then racing is out. If I'm not racing, there is no point in training like I am going to be racing.

Part of it is being fit enough to do the hard workouts. Part of it is being able to will yourself through the tough workouts. I have the former, but without some motivation, I don't know if I'll have the latter. That thing that makes you willing to suffer through intervals in your bedroom.

At least out of this, my loathing of academics took an ultimately real form. A story that I can tell about why I don't want to join their club anymore.

I've been walking around the building for 3 days now with a splint on my hand. Clearly and to the naked eye of the observer, my hand is fucked up.

Several faculty members and colleagues, whom I have been crossing in the halls for 6 years--they know my name, first and last. They know that I went to school in Louisiana. They know that I've been here since 2002--walked past me, looked at me and nodded, without so much as a "Oh, man. Hope that gets better soon." I can understand not wanting to ask, "how'd you do that?" because the answer might be, "I broke my hand when I punched my girlfriend," and that's a bit of an akward conversatioin to find yourself a part of. But, you can always express condolences for an obvious injury.

Not that I need or even want their sympathy. I really don't even want them to be a part of my life at all. This is merely a highlight of the human side of interactions with (many) academics, which is missing. It is missing. It is not there.

And I don't like it, and I don't want to spend the rest of my life around it.

On the opposite side: An electrician that I have also been passing in the hallways for the last 6 years--A fellow that I only know in the capacity of saying hello in the hall once every 3 weeks when our paths cross--stopped me this morning to ask what had happend, what the diagnosis was, how long until I recovered, express his sympathies, etc.

Real people: I have been living in a world without them for far too long. And I miss them and I am ready to go back to them.

Soon. God, please, make it soon.